Something terrible happened when I was younger: I became afraid of love. I’ve been vigilant. I see the love’s traps everywhere, each a prison to bypass and a promise of entrapment.

And, how lively the dead seem.

It’s the email I didn’t send that explains everything. …

Four years ago, I held your mother’s hand and promised her forever.

But we’ve split up again. I don’t think I’ve ever run so fast in my life, and I’m still trying to figure out why. I wonder how, many years from now this may affect you. I know one thing to my shame is I never thought about you once. I’m confident you’ll turn out fine — a nice, strong, proud man — but I wanted to be honest about the time when the most important things in my life weren’t.

How strangely the ritual conjures the ghosts.